The Bets
by Jayce Gish
Summary: A collection of a few miscellaneous tales of the denizens of the 12th Precinct.  Nothing too heavy, I'm trying something different from my usual angst as I remain at home with the flu.  Hopefully no spoilers.  Please review. And bring chicken soup.
1. Chapter 1

_Okay, this was supposed to be a dark, serious piece, but my brain and fingers had a different idea, and did a 180 degree turn on me. This could be the first of several chapters, depending upon the reviews I get. It's quite a different piece than what I usually post, so let me know of your reaction and whether or not I should continue._

_NO REFERENCES TO THE FINALE OF SEASON III, no great angst, and absolutely no spoilers: I'm just trying something different. So, hopefully enjoy, and let me know your thoughts. The more I fussed over this, the weaker it became, so here it is with, hopefully, only a few errors, but I'm highly dyslexic, so who knows! Hopefully, lots of Ryan, Esposito, Lanie, and Martha, in addition to Caskett._

_Oh, yeah, I will shortly be returning to my "Dead Dave" story, but I had to take a break when I realized I had used an actual cold case that I had previously worked on (I'm involved in medical police stuff) as the basis of that Ryan-centric tale, and I was worried about confidentially issues, so I needed to let it rest. It is still unsolved, but I've been inventing "evidence" and feel I can steer it away from the facts and into the realm of fiction._

_Enjoy! And, please review._

**Chapter 1; The $5 Bet**

Richard Castle came racing into the Emergency Room of Mt. Sinai Hospital with so much speed, his initial attempt to halt his 260 pound bulk failed, and with both hands raised to brace for impact, he slid past the ambulatory medicine's admitting desk and slammed into the wall just beyond the counter.

He quickly pushed himself off and covered the distance back to the rather alarmed and slightly bemused young volunteer clerk in just two giant strides. Once again, being tall was proving to be an advantage, and he leaned over the top of the counter and placed his face quite close to hers.

"Katherine Beckett, Detective Katherine Beckett, I heard she was shot. No, NYPD called me. Where is she?" The man tried to push back the thick shock of hair that had fallen forward onto his forehead, but it refused to be tamed.

Instinctively, the candy striper leaned back in her chair, and contemplated whether or not to call security. "Ah, Sir, are you family?"

Castle really, really hated that question. Considering all of the medical emergencies he had been put through in the past few year due to various detectives and police having been taken to such facilities, he knew exactly what lies to tell in order to find out the information he needed as quickly as possible. He made his selection. "I'm her fiance. Now, Katherine Beckett. Where is she . . .?"

Someone standing to the left of Castle cleared his throat. "Yo, Castle. Calm down, bro." Castle turned his head and found Detective Javier Esposito standing next to him, his right hand placed firmly on Castle's left shoulder as he addressed the clerk and used the fingers of his free left hand to point to the man who was now still trying to catch his breath. "Rhonda, this is the potential panicked nut case that I warned you about."

Candy Striper Rhonda Friedman smiled, exposing several hundred dollars of orthodontory metal on her teeth. "You must be Richard Castle. Nice to meet you . . I think." She turned back to Esposito, her expression rather befuddled. "Detective, do you still want custody of him now that he's here?"

"Yeah, don't worry. I got a gun: I'll just shoot him if he gets out of line." Esposito flashed his biggest smile at the teenager who seemed quite relieved to see the human dynamo being led away from her desk. "Common, Castle, this way," said Esposito, his hand gently applying firm pressure to Castle's shoulder as he started to pull him to indicate that he should follow the shorter man who was leading him around the corner and down yet another hallway.

Castle, of course, was still holding his emotions at the level of a Red Alert. He wanted answers, and he wanted them immediately. "Where is she? How is she? How serious is it? Is she in surgery? Did you call her father? " He abruptly came to a complete halt, pulling Esposito to directly face him as he dropped his voice to the level of an hysterical whisper. "Should I call her father?" Esposito just looked at him, his facial expression giving nothing away.

Castle was loosing it. He had promised the cab driver $100 if he had been able to get him to the hospital from his Tribecca loft in under twenty minutes. The cabbie had floored his yellow vehicle and had made the trip in less than sixteen minutes, and hadn't yet brought the cab to a complete stop before his panicky passenger opened the back door of the vehicle, throwing himself out of the rear seat, and tossing the money through the open driver's side window, ran inside Mt. Sinai's ambulatory medicine entrance as quickly as humanly possible. And then slid past the desk and slammed into the wall, once again proving that a body in motion tends to stay in motion until a larger body stopped it.

The wall had clearly proven itself worthy of being classified as a larger body.

"Esposito, talk to me! What happened? Why aren't you saying anything?"

Another voice interrupted. "Because you won't let him get a word in edgewise, Castle."

Castle spun a full one hundred and eighty degrees on his heels and found himself face to face with Beckett. She was standing in the hallway, her leather jacket held over one shoulder, and her rolled up sleeve displaying a small bandage wrapped on her lower left forearm.

"It was just a scratch. I told Ryan not to call Esposito, but once again, my orders have been disobeyed by The Muppets, yes?"

Ryan's head emerged from the side room he had taken cover in. "In my defense, I knew Javier would kill me if I hadn't had called him immediately. I did tell him that we didn't yet know the extent of your injuries." Seeing Beckett's glare, he quickly mumbled, "And, I had nothing whatsoever to do with him telephoning Castle." Ryan tried to smile at Beckett, but she ignored him and turned her icy attention to focus on Esposito.

"And, then, YOU called Castle?"

"Ah, yeah." Esposito tried the same smile on his boss that had proven so successful with the candy striper just moments earlier. Beckett wasn't buying it. In fact, there was no noticeable reaction from Beckett, other than the slight tapping her left foot. After seven years of working with Detective Kate Beckett, Esposito knew that this meant she was about to blow her top. "Ah, sorry?" he offered, knowing that it most probably not be accepted.

Neither Esposito nor Ryan had been a party to the loud exchange of harsh words between Beckett and Castle in the precinct as yesterday had drawn to a close. Rick had simply wanted to take her out for dinner, while Kate had just wanted to go home. Alone. As usual, each only heard their own words, and Castle stormed off toward the elevator while Kate stomped away toward the staircase, making sure that Castle was able to hear the stairway door slam as she forced it closed behind her while he waited for the elevator car to arrive.

Departing the building, neither saw the other, Beckett having waited at the bottom of the empty staircase to give Castle more than enough time to ride the elevator down and make his exit from the precinct. While she sat on the lowest step, Beckett tried to cool down and recall what this particular spat had been about. She was troubled to realize that she wasn't sure. All she knew was that whenever she was alone with Castle, she was worried that he was going to want to continue their discussion about all of those experiences she wasn't yet ready to discuss, such as their kiss, their time in the cooler, or the diffusing of the bomb. Kate had to admit to herself that they didn't just have another argument; she was concerned that there was the inevitability that one day, such a "discussion" would escalate into the continuation of that memorable argument which had occurred between the two of them in her apartment.

Beckett wasn't yet ready to discuss any of those topics, either individually or as a collective, because she wasn't sure what her feelings actually were. She shook her head as she tapped her left foot, impatient with herself. No, that wasn't exactly right; she knew that every time she thought about the two of them, Castle and Beckett, or Kate and Rick, about just the two of them, about what had happened or could have happened, or what might occur in the future that had yet to happen during any potential future discussion, at just the mere thought of any of the above, that those pesky little butterflies appeared in her gut and started to rapidly move about, and she wasn't about to let Castle know that he was solely responsible for such an emotional reaction deep inside of her.

The butterflies made their appearance right on schedule as she sat thinking about this particular man. This handsome, impatient, amusing, maddening man, her partner and all-around major irritant, the pain formerly known as Richard Alexander Rodgers and now simply frequently referred to as "Castle". Kate had observed that the fluttering feeling, rather than being easily dismissed, was lasting for longer and longer periods of time. As she pushed a lock of hair behind her right ear, she realized that sometimes they appeared even before she realized that she was thinking about the blue eyed writer. And, right this minute, she was realizing that tapping her foot or playing with her hair didn't make them disappear any faster. In fact, it was taking quite an extended amount of time before they were even showing signs of beginning to settle back down.

And, now, the detective and the writer were facing each other head to head while standing in the middle of the hallway of the emergency room at New York City's busiest hospital. As far as the woman was concerned, there was only Kate and Rick, and the insects were again swarming. Neither Esposito nor Ryan were registered as mere ghostly presences by the beautiful detective.

It was Ryan who first noticed that, of the four of them, no one was speaking. In fact, except for those butterflies that only Kate was aware of, nothing else was even moving.

Ryan looked at Esposito, gesturing with his head that the two of them should leave. Slowly, and with great purpose, both detectives silently walked back to the admissions desk, leaving their two remaining comrades to silently scream at one another.

Esposito spoke first. "Okay, now what did we miss?"

Ryan shrugged his shoulders. "I have absolutely no idea. Let's get out of here."

"Do you think it is safe to leave the two of them alone?" asked Esposito.

The pair of men turned in unison to see their colleagues standing perfectly still in the middle of the hall, seemingly unaware of any of the commotion surrounding them. They each simply stood their ground, neither moving nor talking. They were barely blinking. Castle's arms were folded in front of his chest, his legs spread slightly apart, and he looked like a very large, immovable object. For her part, Detective Beckett had her feet pointing forward, with her bandaged arm holding onto the leather jacket that was slung over her right shoulder.

Both participants refused to take their eyes off one another.

Ryan looked at Beckett, and then at Castle, and then returned his attention to Beckett. It was difficult to tell by mere appearances which of the two seemed more angry at the other. It was a standoff, a draw, and for all Kevin Ryan knew, the pair might remain standing there for quite some time.

Esposito repeated his question. "Do you think it is safe to leave the two of them alone?"

"Absolutely not. That's why I think we should get out of here."

"I agree."

Both detectives smiled at Rhonda as they walked past her, and Ryan suddenly remembered something. "Oh, Javier," he started, his voice displaying a pronounced casualness that was too evident to be anything but by calculation, "by any chance, were you within earshot of Castle's entrance?"

Esposito nodded, then sighed as his right hand reached into the back pocket of his jeans, and he pulled a five dollar bill from his wallet and extended it toward his partner.

"You were right." Esposito shook his head. "Castle used the classic 'fiance' excuse." His deep brown eyes regarded his younger partner. "How did you know he would?"

Ryan smiled as he snapped up the bill from Esposito's hand. "I've told you, Dude, mark my words, they're gonna get it together yet."

Esposito smiled at his partner. "Maybe, but, when that time comes, will we still be young enough and still in our right minds enough to even notice?"

Ryan grinned at his partner as he tucked the money into his jacket pocket. "Of that, bro, I have no idea."

Esposito laughed and extended his right hand to his partner. "I'll bet you a ten spot we'll be senile before that happens."

Ryan's blue eyes twinkled as he shook Esposito's hand. "You're on." He then paused. "Of course, collecting on this bet could prove to be a little difficult." An evil grin came to his lips. "Should we have Lanie play cashier and hold onto the money until someone who is certifiably sane can determine the actual winner?"

Esposito laughed. "Lanie? Be serious! As soon as Lanie gets possession of twenty dollars, she'll be at Pay Less For Shoes. That woman thinks with her feet. We'd be better off leaving it with anyone else. Hey, you hungry? Wanna stop at the vendor on the corner and grab a hot dog?"

"You buying?"

"Hey, I wish I could, but I just lost my last five dollars."

**_Go for it! Let me know if you enjoyed it, or if I should go back to high body counts with vivid descriptions._**


	2. Chapter 2

THE BET - $10

Richard Castle came running out of the precinct's elevator. "I got away as quickly as possible," he stated to the man standing across the room who looked up at the rapidly approaching figure. "Where are they? Any new developments?"

Kevin Ryan motioned toward the small conference room and slowly shook his head. "They have been in there for the last thirty minutes. Beckett asked us to stay out. I've been in contact with the officers at the scene. Nothing new from the lab boys; they're still going through the house where it all took place." He paused. "Everyone has taken this pretty hard, especially Beckett. Just to let you know . . ."

Castle gave the Irishman a quick nod, and then started toward the closed door. He took a moment to gather his thoughts as he reached for the knob, softly knocking to alert those presently in the room as to his intention to enter. Only then did he slowly open the conference room door. "Detective, may I come in, please?"

He was just starting to enter the room when he heard his partner's voice grant him permission to enter. "Castle, we're in here."

Detective Ryan was right; she sounded exhausted.

As he looked in, he saw Kate Beckett sitting on the couch. Her shoes had been removed and were on the floor, her usually immaculate shirt was wrinkled and untucked, and her hair, always brushed until it shined, had been tied back into a messy ponytail. Sitting next to her was the little girl that Esposito had phoned him about, the one survivor of the family massacre, a tiny child who couldn't have been more than four years old. Although Kate was holding gently onto the small hand, the girl's fingers were limp and did not grasp those of the detective.

Castle noticed that the eyes of the girl did not focus, appearing to look right through him when she turned her head to face the new voice in the room. There was no telling what she had been witness to in the last five or six hours. All she knew is that her mommy and daddy were not by her side, and she was sitting on an uncomfortable couch in an unfamiliar building, with a woman she didn't know. And, thought Castle, if she refused to acknowledge yet another stranger as he entered, she probably thought that he wouldn't be able to harm her.

Castle wasn't even aware of the practiced ease with which he removed the opera cape that he was wearing with a flourish, revealing his tuxedo as he folded the outer garment over his arm and then gently placed it on the table by the door. Only then did he slowly and purposefully walk further into the room toward the couch's two occupants.

"Hi there, my name is Rick." He smiled at the girl as he dropped down on his haunches just a few feet from the child in an attempt to look at her on her own level. "My real first name is Richard, but all my friends call me Rick." He paused, searching her face for recognition. "What do your friends call you?"

Castle loosened his formal black bow tie and allowed it to dangle around his neck as he then undid the two top buttons on his formal white pleated shirt. At least now he could breathe more easily.

The young girl slowly seemed to realize that the man was asking her a question. He had blue eyes and was dressed like a prince at a ball, like in her story books. And, she liked her story books. Her mommy read them to her every evening when she was being tucked into bed, and she never had a bad dream after her mommy read to her.

"My name is Emily."

Kate looked at Castle with a surprised expression on her face. She hadn't had been able to get so much as a 'hello' from the child since she had been removed from the blood spattered bedroom over two hours ago. That was when she had asked Esposito to call Castle.

"Emily. That's a beautiful name. I have a daughter. And, she has bright red long hair down to here." Castle motioned to the middle of his chest, and he noticed that Emily watched his hand as he made the gesture. So far, so good, so he continued speaking in a low pitched, soothing voice.

"She's a few years older than you. Her name is Alexis. That's another beautiful name, isn't it?" Kate recognized the tone of his speech, and she smiled at him; Richard Castle only used that soft tone on special occasions, and usually only when the two of them were alone.

Emily didn't respond, but Castle noted that he now had her full attention. He turned up the charm.

"You know what would be nice about now? A cup of tea. Lots of times, oh, too many to count, Alexis would invite me into her bedroom for a tea party with many of her stuffed animals." He inched closed to the girl, making sure he appeared to be no threat to her. Then he loudly whispered, "Actually, I hate tea. How about a glass of wine? Do you drink?"

Kate was unable to suppress a smile. She winked at Castle and then looked down at Emily. "Well, what do you want to tell Rick? Tea or wine? Ladies' choice."

Emily seemed to think about the question. And, she didn't seem to know the answer.

It was now Rick's turn to grin, turning up the charm even further.

"I know; I bet you'd like a glass of warm milk. How does that sound to you? That's my favorite night time liquid. That makes my tummy happy. Emily, would you like a small glass of nice, warm milk? Detective Beckett, would you like a glass of warm milk, too?"

Castle turned his full attention to his partner for the first time that evening. Kate had been trying for almost two hours to get Emily to speak to her, but without success. She knew that Emily was trying not to associate her with what had happened in her house, but it didn't seem like a possibility. So, she asked, no, ordered Esposito to call Castle, and to keep calling him until he answered his damn phone. It took almost an hour, but he had finally picked up. Esposito heard the party in full swing in the background as he filled Castle in on what had happened, adding that Kate had specifically requested that he please get his ass to the precinct as soon as possible, and bring with him all of his fathering experience in an attempt to put the girl at ease.

And, finally, here he was. Rick gave Emily an even bigger smile. "Let's see what we can find . . ."

Castle slowly stood up and walked over to the department's ice box while still maintaining his monologue with Emily. "I bet there's some milk in here that we can heat up for you. . ." He knew that his height alone could have alarmed the petite child, so he walked with his shoulders hunched and his knees slightly bent, in an attempt to make himself as short as possible. Kate grinned at his efforts; Rick was almost six foot two, and has he walked away from them hunched over, she thought he resembled a very well dressed troll. If trolls dressed in Armani.

As Castle was opening the door of the refrigerator, there was a short knock on the door and Detectives Ryan and Esposito entered after a momentary pause. They took only a single step into the conference room having noted Rick's cautious entrance.

"Someone from Child Services should be here within the hour," said Ryan. He found himself speaking to Castle's butt, which was the only part of him visible from the doorway. "Ah, Castle, what are you looking for?"

"Milk . . .and, yeah, here it is!" Castle held up a nearly empty half quart of milk in his raised left hand as though it was a precious artifact. "There should be enough for a small glass, I'll just put it in a coffee cup and zap it in the microwave."

Ryan and Esposito gave each other an uncomfortable look. "Ah, Castle," said Esposito, "that's Detective Kawalski's milk for her wake-up coffee. It's off limits for everyone else . . ."

Castle shook his head. "Nah, doesn't count, it's for Emily." And he started to open and look through all of the kitchen cabinets in search of a small mug to pour the milk into.

Ryan shook his head. "Castle, you sure you want to do that? She won't be happy in the morning. . ."

Esposito was in agreement. "She'll have your head if, no, when she finds out who took the last of her milk. . ."

But Castle had already removed the bright pink post-it from the side of the carton that said "Kawalski Only Or Die!" in bright blue large lettering, and placed it on the counter as he emptied the contents of the carton in an NYPD mug that he then placed into the microwave.

"Emily, would like for me to tell you a story while you drink your milk? Or, would you like Detective Beckett to tell you a story?" Despite the seriousness of the moment, Castle

had to grin at the flash of panic that appeared on Kate's face. Stories? Off the top of her head? And for a traumatized little girl no less?

Then Kate saw Castle's wink. "I bet I know more stories than Detective Beckett. Alexis loves fairy tales with princesses and knights and dragons. It might be due to the fact that our last name is 'Castle'. Archery contests, sword duels, servants parading around the great hall with trays of food, people dancing around the May pole as the king and queen cheered them on. I think I still remember a few of those. That means that those stories would be Alexis' favorites, and I told them to her lots and lots of times. Would you like to hear one?"

The microwave dinged, signaling that the milk was ready.

"Yes, please," said Emily, and Castle smiled at her, using his best "the women all love this expression" grin. At the same time, he indicated with a quick flick of his head that Esposito and Ryan could leave the room, that he now had things under control.

"It would be my pleasure. Scoot over so there is room for me on the couch. . ." This time standing tall, Castle brought over the milk and handed it to Emily. He then proceeded to sit down almost in Beckett's lap as Emily moved closer to the arm of the couch and Beckett tried to shift more to Castle's right.

After making sure that the young girl has a good grasp on the coffee mug, Rick then put his left arm around Emily, and his other arm around Beckett. She raised an eyebrow at his audacity, but kept her mouth shut. Maybe for just this one time it would be alright. Besides, it actually felt rather nice, having the man nestled right next to her with his arm resting on her shoulder.

"Everybody comfortable?" He looked at Emily, and then at Kate. Seeing no objection from his partner, he winked at her for the second time as Emily took her first sip of the warm milk. "Okay, let's start. Once upon a time . . ."

That next morning, New York City Police Detective Olga Kawalski was surprise to find a crisp ten dollar bill stapled to her post it note on the now-empty milk carton. On the note was written, "Thank you: Emily".

Kawalski looked around the empty break room. "Who the heck is 'Emily'?"


End file.
